


Trial and Error

by undieshogun



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Hoshido | Birthright Route, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 04:43:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6890677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undieshogun/pseuds/undieshogun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takumi and Tsubaki step around each other in a dance neither of them has mastered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> aiya
> 
> this thing is just paragraph after paragraph of disaster, but i love this ship too much to scrap it. i did the best i could with it, because people are counting on me, and even got the beautiful yao to go over it real quick for me, so i suppose this is the least i could do. this is for you, alex and lily. you're gonna cringe, i can guarantee you, but i hope yall still enjoy it

Red, Takumi thinks one warm afternoon as he sits alone in his room at the castle barracks, is probably his least favorite color.

It is the color that dances in his vision when he loses himself to his rage, and the color that burns on his cheeks when the shame catches up with him afterwards. It is the color that flowers in the fabric of his sleeve now, as his own blood pours out from the deep wound in his forearm.

For as long as he can remember, red has always been the color of Takumi’s failures.

So when a head full of crimson hair pokes through the entrance of his room, his first instinct is to grimace and avert his gaze, pulling his injured arm closer to himself and hopefully out of sight.

“Lord Takumi?” says Tsubaki.

The pegasus knight--Sakura’s retainer, Takumi recalls. The one who prizes perfection above all else, and lives up to his own ideals. He can hear it in his voice--self assuredness evident in the way he projects even into a room where Takumi is the only other person there. Suddenly, Takumi finds himself feeling rather small.

“Pardon the intrusion,” Tsubaki says, inclining his head politely. “Lady Sakura was looking for you. She wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Takumi scowls at that--she must have seen him take the hit. Gods, would it have killed him to be a little more careful?

“I’m fine,” he mutters, still unable to meet Tsubaki’s gaze.

“Are you sure? She sounded rather concerned…”

“I said I’m fine,” Takumi snaps, only to follow it up with a sharp, involuntary hiss through his teeth as pain throbs in his arm.

“Lord Takumi!” says Tsubaki, and Takumi is painfully aware of every light, quick step he takes into the room.

“It’s nothing,” Takumi insists, shirking away as Tsubaki kneels down beside him.

 _No one gave you permission to enter,_ Takumi tries to say, but Tsubaki is already peeling the bloodied sleeve away to reveal the gash underneath.

“This is a serious wound, Lord Takumi,” says Tsubaki, and Takumi has to refrain from rolling his eyes.

As if he didn’t already know that. The damage is extensive--just the impact from the blow alone nearly broke bone, but it’s still nothing Sakura can’t fix. It’s just--

“Sakura’s busy. I’ll see her when she’s done treating the other soldiers,” Takumi says and tells himself it has nothing to do with the embarrassment of walking across the castle grounds with half his arm coming off.

“Hm…Very well,” Tsubaki concedes with surprisingly no argument. “I’ll let her know.”

“Thanks,” mutters Takumi, though he’s fairly certain gratefulness is the last thing he’s feeling at the moment.

“You’re welcome,” says Tsubaki goodnaturedly.

For a few seconds, neither of them moves.

“Uh…” Takumi glances up. “Why are you still--”

Tsubaki meets Takumi’s gaze with a long, searching look that instantly sends heat rising to his cheeks.

“What is it?” Takumi demands.

If Tsubaki notices his blush through the dim lighting, he has the grace not to point it out, instead indicating the open first-aid pack sitting at Takumi’s feet.

“Were you going to wrap the wound?” Tsubaki asks. “Wouldn’t it be easier with some help?”

“I can take care of myself,” says Takumi reflexively.

Tsubaki laughs in a way that makes Takumi bristle. “Of that I have no doubt, my lord,” he says. "The offer still stands."

Takumi hesitates, but in the end he doesn't have to think terribly hard about how difficult it would be bandaging his wound with only one arm.

"Fine," he relents, then backtracks a little. "I mean...I appreciate it. Thank you."

Tsubaki smiles at him, flashing a row of perfect white teeth, and Takumi battles with the sudden urge to punch them straight out of his mouth. He wonders if everyone who speaks with Tsubaki feels this way during their conversations.

A stack of clean white towels sits next to Takumi on his futon, and Tsubaki picks one of them up and dips it into the pail of clean water at his feet.

"May I?"

Takumi quietly offers his arm and, gently, Tsubaki grips it with one hand and begins dabbing away at the blood and dirt.

Tsubaki's hand is warm on Takumi's skin, and despite his prickly mood, Takumi finds that there is something reassuring about the look of intense focus he adopts as he works, eyes fixed and brow furrowed slightly.

For the next few moments, Takumi watches him.

Tsubaki is the picture of elegance, with thin, high eyebrows and all soft angles on his face, except for a strong jaw that curves into a round chin. His skin is fair and free of blemishes, whereas Takumi’s skin is intensely tanned from spending hours every day in the sun and dotted with a thick smattering of freckles across his shoulders and the bridge of his nose, fanning out against his cheeks.

 _Like little flowers blooming across your skin_ , his mother used to say, as she pressed the pads of her fingers against his cheekbones.

Lately, they just feel like a stain he can’t wipe off no matter how hard he tries--just one among his thousands of other imperfections.

Self-consciously, Takumi swipes his free hand across his cheek--it comes away smeared with dirt and blood that isn't his. He looks back down at Tsubaki, whose uniform is impeccably clean. Takumi's pale hair falls over his shoulder, the tie having been broken at some point during the scuffle, but Tsubaki's is still perfectly held up and pinned with an elegant black clip gilded in gold, with not a single strand out of place. It's like Tsubaki never even went into battle.

"Does that hurt?" asks Tsubaki, glancing up at him.

"Uh--" Takumi blinks, trying to gather himself. "No, it's fine."

"You're tense." Tsubaki gently touches the back of Takumi's hand, which he notices then is clenched into a tight fist.

Takumi loosens his hand. "Sorry. I just--um, I guess I'm just a little nervous."

Tsubaki raises his eyebrows. "Nervous? About what?"

Takumi averts his gaze. "Forget it, it's nothing." He sniffs and shifts his arm away. "I can handle the rest by myself. Thanks for the help."

"Nonsense!" Tsubaki clicks his tongue. "The wrapping is the hardest to do on your own. Don't be obstinate, Lord Takumi."

"You're not supposed to talk to me like that," Takumi mutters, yet doesn't protest when Tsubaki once again takes hold of his arm.

"My apologies. Does it bother you?" Tsubaki picks up a pair of scissors from the first-aid kit and begins cutting away the sleeve. Takumi can't help but flinch a little at the sound of the fabric being sheared away. Oboro had tailored this shirt specially for him. He'll have to ask her for another--after apologizing to her first, of course.

"It's fine," Takumi mumbles, perhaps more to himself about the shirt than to Tsubaki's question.

Tsubaki looks up to flash Takumi another smile. This one crinkles the corners of his eyes, bright and warm, and Takumi can't help but notice that they are nearly the same shade of red as his hair, only a little darker and flecked with brown. Takumi looks away and tries to ignore the way his face turns warm again.

"So how did you come by this wound, if you don't mind me asking?" says Tsubaki.

Takumi purses his lips, not exactly eager to share, but Tsubaki waits. The silence between them sits loud and awkward.

"He got close before I could do anything,” Takumi finally admits. “It was the arm or my head."

"But this is your bow arm, isn’t it?" says Tsubaki. "You could have easily blocked the attack with your bow."

"No," Takumi replies a little too quickly. "Bows aren't meant to be used like that."

"Well, surely not on a regular basis, but when it comes to choosing yourself or your weapon--"

"I don't take risks like that. Not with the Fujin Yumi," insists Takumi.

Tsubaki blinks at him, taken aback by his adamant argument. "I...suppose you have a point. It is a sacred weapon, after all."

Takumi fists his hand in the hem of his shirt and doesn't admit to Tsubaki that it's because the Fujin Yumi is the only thing that makes him special.

"The day it chose you must have been quite momentous for you," says Tsubaki. "Or were you perhaps expecting it, since you're a prince of the royal family?"

"I, ah...I don't really remember. I don't think about it a lot," Takumi lies through his teeth.

The day the Fujin Yumi had started glowing from its perch above the throne, Takumi figured it was because it had chosen Ryoma as its wielder, and he imagines everyone was thinking the same. After all, the Raijinto had chosen him as well.

Yet when Ryoma had picked it up, it had rejected him so severely that he'd dropped it as if it burned his skin. And when Takumi had picked it up, unthinkingly and yet strikingly aware of what he was doing at the same time, it had glowed warmly in his hand, as if to welcome him.

 _This is mine_ , Takumi had thought, staring down reverently at it. It would take him years to be able to even shoot it properly, yet in that moment, he had felt an intense, profound elation at the fact that something so sacred, so _important_ and powerful, had for once chosen him over Ryoma.

So it is with the utmost care and devotion that Takumi tends to the Fujin Yumi every day, fine-tuning it regularly and training with it as much as he can to make the most of its potential.

And if somewhere along the way he came to value the Fujin Yumi more than he values himself, it must be because he's only worth as much as it makes him.

Even now, he itches to tend to it, to make sure it hasn't been knocked out of balance from the battle. He'd dropped it on the ground after the enemy's sword had cut into his arm, the sudden flash of pain making it impossible for him to hold on.

Takumi watches as Tsubaki unravels some gauze and begins wrapping Takumi's arm tightly, but carefully enough that it doesn't hurt. That focused gaze has worked its way back onto his expression, thin brows angled into a frown and lips pursed. Takumi taps his foot a few times, then stills it and drops his shoulders, trying to tell himself to be patient.

"How are you doing?" asks Tsubaki. "Is there any pain?"

"I'm fine," Takumi answers. He swallows, then glances over towards the other end of the room, where the Fujin Yumi is propped up on its stand. "Could you maybe, er, hurry it up a little?"

Rather than comply, Tsubaki pauses to give Takumi an incredulous look. "And risk doing a shoddy job of wrapping your wound? My lord, surely you understand that I must do everything I can to ensure that you receive nothing less than my best while you are under my care."

"What...? Tsubaki, it's just...I mean, I appreciate it but it's not really--" Takumi cuts himself off when he sees the corner of Tsubaki's mouth twitch, though the other ducks his head quickly to hide it. "Wait, are you messing with me?"

"Hah..." A barely contained giggle escapes from Tsubaki's lips. "My apologies. I suppose there's just something about you that makes me want to tease you, Lord Takumi."

Takumi tenses, and he bares his teeth. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Tsubaki's bangs fall over his face, hiding his expression, but Takumi can still hear the laughter in his voice. "Nothing," he says. "Nothing at all."

Takumi inhales sharply as he realises what's going on. "Great." He pulls his arm out of Tsubaki's grip, ignoring the way it hurts intensely from being jostled. "You think I'm just some snotty kid, like everyone else does."

Tsubaki looks up, expression pinching with confusion. "What? That's not what I--Lord Takumi, your arm--"

"Back off," Takumi growls, turning away and stalking out of the room without so much as a look backwards.

The castle is fairly busy--soldiers are bustling about, putting their armor away or otherwise preparing to settle down for the night. Nobody spares him a glance, but he still keeps his half-bandaged arm close to his chest, turning it inwards as fresh blood blooms against the white cloth.

The pain has been constant, unrelenting in both its persistence and its intensity, but somehow the sting of being made fun of by Tsubaki is what really has Takumi grinding his teeth as he makes his way over to the infirmary.

If it were some stranger, then perhaps he could brush it off. He's used to that sort of thing now, people who don't know anything pretending like they do. But there's something about Tsubaki--his perfect smile, his dark eyes and his impeccably precise movements in everything he does--that makes Takumi feel the need to prove himself.

"Ugh," Takumi grumbles to himself, shaking his thoughts away. "Get over yourself. You don't owe anyone anything, much less him."

The infirmary is still somewhat crowded, but when Takumi spots Sakura on the other side she doesn't look terribly busy, having just finished healing a soldier with her staff.

Despite Takumi's blunder, the rest of the battle had gone fairly well for everyone else. They'd pulled off an ambush on Nohrian forces, and there were very few casualties. The injuries were for the most part superficial, and most of the soldiers in the tent right now are conscious, with some cuts and bruises, but still intact. He hopes no one notices the way his blood drips through the soggy bandages as he makes his way across the room, leaving a dotted trail in his wake.

Sakura notices him as he approaches, and Takumi watches her expression turn stormy and braces himself.

"Takumi..." Sakura never yells. She speaks softly, with her eyebrows arched up in mild disappointment. Over the course of this war, Takumi has come to find that Sakura is the most frightening out of all of his siblings, especially during times like this.

"I'm fine," Takumi tries to say, but Sakura is already pulling apart the bandages on his arm with a deeply disturbed look.

"I wish you had come to see me right away," Sakura says. She never stutters when she talks to him. "This isn't a terribly deep cut, but it could have been infected at any time, especially with all of this dirt and grime surrounding it."

"I just didn't want you to divide your attentions. A lot of the others had it worse than me, so I figured I could wait..."

Sakura sighs as she sets aside the bloodied bandages, picks up a clean washcloth, and begins re-cleaning his wound. "And why did you wrap it? You could have trapped any number of germs and such that would have had the time to enter your body by now."

She isn't nearly as gentle as Tsubaki was. Her movements are precise and purposeful, scrubbing at the skin around the wound firmly until it almost hurts as much as the cut itself does. Sakura is an expert healer, but many of the members of the army have had to learn the hard way that that means she can’t necessarily afford to retain some of the gentleness she normally carries in her speech and other mannerisms.

"Can you fix it?" Takumi asks, and counts it a blessing that Sakura doesn't roll her eyes at him. Then again, he's not sure if he's ever seen her roll her eyes at anyone.

"Stay still." Sakura picks up her staff and holds it over Takumi's arm, then closes her eyes.

The Bloom Festal chimes once with the sound of a bronze bell shaking, then begins to glow with healing power. Takumi has seen this many times now, but he still can't help but let his gaze fix on his arm as the wound begins repairing itself right in front of his eyes. An intense heat blooms in the area, overpowering the pain, and there is a strange but familiar tugging sensation underneath it as his muscle and skin pull back together.

"There." The staff's glow disappears once Takumi's arm is fully healed, though the skin covering the area where it used to be is still tender when Sakura presses gently on it. "How's that?"

"It's fine," Takumi replies. "Thank you, Sakura."

"Of course," Sakura says, placing the staff down carefully and wiping at the light sheen of sweat that has appeared on her forehead. "Next time, make sure you come to me, or at least another healer right away, all right? You're a very important part of this army, Takumi."

Takumi raises his eyebrows. "That's...a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?"

Sakura sighs. "I don't think so. The soldiers...they look up to you and Ryoma and Hinoka on the battlefield, and they rely on me afterwards to tend to their injuries. It's difficult, and sometimes the pressure still frightens me...but we all have a responsibility as royals to set an example. So..."

Takumi can't help but smile as he watches Sakura pause to gather herself. They were always closer to each other than to Ryoma or Hinoka, and he feels a little proud seeing how much she's grown. "All right, I get it. Thank you, Sakura."

"Oh, before you go--do you know where Tsubaki went after he got you?"

At the mention of Tsubaki, Takumi's mood immediately sours again. "How would I know?"

Sakura blinks at Takumi's rude response, but before Takumi can correct himself, she simply nods and says, "All right. Make sure you go and get some rest, okay?"

Takumi doesn't so much walk back to the barracks as he does sulk, unable to shake off his frustration. _Just let it go_ , he tells himself. _He's probably already forgotten that he even talked to you today._

He pauses in front of his quarters, wondering for an absurd moment if Tsubaki might still be inside, waiting to tease him again.

With an angry huff, he shakes his head and stomps his way into the room.

It’s empty.

The Fujin Yumi hasn’t been moved from its position on the stand. The first aid pack has been gathered and closed and set down next to his traveling pack, and Tsubaki (or at least someone) retrieved the water pail and wash cloth, but Takumi’s futon is still mussed.

Takumi kneels down to pat it out, and tries to convince himself that the mild disappointment sitting in the back of his mind doesn’t mean anything.

-:- 

A week passes. The army spends most of its time marching, so Takumi doesn't really talk much with anyone besides the archer squadron and his siblings. Sakura stops by often, her retainers trailing behind her, but Takumi is careful about not letting Tsubaki get more than a formal greeting in before he turns away.

It's easy to avoid him like this, when he has an excuse to only talk to Sakura.

It's not as if Tsubaki would have anything to say to him, anyway, Takumi reasons, feeling stupid for acting this way. Yet he can't shake the nervousness that settles in the pit of his stomach as the army retreats into the castle outside of Cheve on a cool autumn night.

The armory is crowded with all the troops putting their armor and weapons away, but Takumi manages to find a quiet corner to settle down with his retainers.

“What’s the matter, Lord Takumi?” Oboro asks as she watches Takumi unsling the Fujin Yumi from his back and sit down on a bench with a huff.

“Tired?” asks Hinata, sitting down next to him.

Takumi pulls out his fine-tuning instruments for Fujin Yumi, but can’t muster the energy to start working. “What do you think of Tsubaki?” he asks Oboro and Hinata instead.

“Tsubaki? The pegasus knight?” says Oboro.

“I think he’s a pretty cool guy,” says Hinata, and Takumi throws him a surprised look.

“Um...really?” Takumi says, not sure if he expected that answer from Hinata of all people.

Hinata laughs at the look on his face. “Well, he does come off as kind of conceited at first, but he’s actually really nice once you get to know him.”

“Yeah, he does seem a little uptight at first,” says Oboro. “But he’s helped me out a couple of times, too.”

“It’s just that...well, he does kind of think he’s better than everyone else, so…” Hinata trails off with a shrug. “He’s not a bad guy or anything, you know?”  

“Why do you ask, Takumi?” asks Oboro, brow furrowing in mild concern. “Did something happen between the two of you? He didn’t say anything rude to you, did he?”

“It’s fine,” Takumi says before they can storm off to start something that will only end in grief for everyone. “I was just wondering, that’s all.”

“Well, regardless, he doesn’t hold a candle to you,” says Oboro.

“Yeah, you have nothing to worry about!”

“I wasn’t _worried_ about anything,” Takumi snaps, wishing he could wipe the knowing smiles off their faces.

Thankfully, they know to drop the subject, and though he isn’t sure if he’s happy with their answers, he can at least bring himself to get to work on his bow. Takumi uses the next few minutes that the three of them spend together, polishing their weapons in silence, to take his mind off of things. At the end of the day, his responsibilities as a soldier and a prince outweigh whatever petty issue he might have with Tsubaki.

Yet Takumi can’t ignore the urge to flee the moment he spots the person in question step into the armory and sweep a searching gaze across the room.

“I’m gonna go,” he says to Oboro and Hinata, who immediately whip their heads around to look at Tsubaki as if they were reading Takumi’s mind.

“No worries! We’ve got you covered,” says Oboro, and Hinata gives him a toothy grin and a thumbs-up sign.

“What? Don’t do anything stupid,” Takumi says, then shakes his head. “Whatever, just...ugh, I’ll talk to you numbskulls later.”

Slinging the Fujin Yumi back over his shoulder, Takumi shuffles behind a stand of clubs and manages to slip out of the armory without being spotted by Tsubaki--not that Tsubaki was looking for him, he’s sure.

Back at the barracks, Takumi sets the Fujin Yumi on its stand and drops the rest of his equipment onto his futon with a tired huff. Despite being fairly uneventful, the march was a long and taxing one. Still, the sun has yet to set and Takumi doesn’t feel like turning in just yet.

The rice paddies are a little far from the barracks, but Takumi doesn’t mind the walk. It’s too dark to scavenge in the ore spring at this time, and the idea of training doesn’t particularly appeal to his sore feet and back right now.

He isn’t surprised when no one is there--most people harvest in the mornings and in groups of two or three, but everyone is busy right now, and he doesn't want to wait around to be assisted like some kid.

Takumi slips out of his boots, rolls up the cuffs of his pants, and steps into the marshy fields to do some weeding. The work is simple and repetitive, but still takes a fair amount of concentration on Takumi’s part, if only because it’s not something he’s used to.

Fighting, he can do. He's been training in combat since he was a child. Marching, however, and being a part of an actual army is something he had never experienced before the war with Nohr really picked up just a few months ago. Takumi is still not used to many of the aspects of being a soldier in an army, but he can't afford to let that make him the weak link--he's perfectly capable of carrying his own weight.

"Ah--" Takumi stumbles coming out of the field, foot catching on the sudden incline.

A hand grasps his arm just in time to save him from plunging face-first into the mud, and Takumi looks up to see the last person he wanted to meet tonight.

"Here," says Tsubaki, leading him out of the field.

"Thanks," Takumi mutters, lowering his gaze as he pulls his arm out of Tsubaki’s grip and holds back from rubbing at it like he’s wiping something away.

"Are you all right, Lord Takumi?” Tsubaki asks, and Takumi’s irritation spikes.

"I just tripped. It’s no big deal." Takumi steps around Tsubaki, scoops up his boots, and starts walking back towards the barracks before Tsubaki can get another rise out of him.

"Lord Takumi, hold on!"

Takumi doesn't stop, but Tsubaki follows after him nonetheless. "My lord--"

Takumi swivels and just barely gives himself enough time to gather his courage before looking up to stare Tsubaki in the eye. "Look. If this isn't important, I'd really rather you didn't bug me."

"It is important!" Tsubaki replies, and the only thing that stops Takumi from brushing him off is the flicker of urgency that passes through his expression.

Takumi tries not to look too miffed as he crosses his arms and waits.

"I..." Tsubaki rubs the back of his neck and exhales heavily. "I wanted to offer you my sincere apologies, Lord Takumi."

Takumi can't help the way his eyebrows go up. "Apologies? What, for last week?"

"I offended you," says Tsubaki, expression twisting into something mildly disturbed, as if he's never admitted he was wrong in his entire life.

Then again, Takumi figures, he probably hasn't.

"That was never my intention," Tsubaki continues, "but I behaved in a way that was unfit for a servant to the royal family, and for that I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

Takumi swallows down a vague, uncomfortable feeling that settles in the back of his throat. "Are you messing with me again?"

"What? No! My lord, I swear I mean it. I honestly didn't mean to--I acted out of line that day," says Tsubaki.

"But you meant it when you said you liked to tease me."

"Er--well, yes, but not because I think you're a child, or anything like that." Tsubaki tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear and looks away.

"Right," says Takumi with a shrug, remembering his conversation with Oboro and Hinata. "It's because you think you're better than me."

Tsubaki flinches, as if he's been struck. "What...? I've never--"

"I mean, that's kind of your thing, right? That you think you're better than everyone around you, since you're so perfect and all." It isn't jealousy that Takumi feels--at least, that's not what he thinks it is. He isn't sure if it's anger, either, because he knows anger and it isn’t this. Still, there's something there, simmering hollowly in his gut like it's still waiting for the right moment to push its way out of him when he least needs it.

It stays there as he turns around and walks away, and only jumps a little in his stomach when Tsubaki grabs his shoulder.

Takumi swivels, chest swelling with a loud protest, but Tsubaki speaks first.

"Look, I swear I never meant to offend you in any way." Tsubaki steps in front of Takumi, blocking him from leaving. "And I know I come across as...ah, a tad self-absorbed, but I would never look down on you."

"I don't really care," says Takumi, because he's apparently become that good at lying recently.

"I do!" says Tsubaki. "Please tell me there's something I can do to redeem myself to you, Lord Takumi. It pains me to have antagonised you, especially given how close you are to Lady Sakura."

"Why do you care so much about this?" says Takumi, because maybe it was better when Tsubaki just didn’t know he existed.

Tsubaki hesitates, expression flickering with uncertainty, and Takumi realises that he's crossed a line.

"You don't have to answer that," he says quickly. "And you don't have to do anything to 'redeem' yourself, either. Let's just forget this happened--"

"It's because I care about what you think of me," Tsubaki blurts. He flexes his fingers and fidgets with the hem of his shirt; then, with visible effort, he relaxes his hands and lets out another sigh. "As I said, I'm a servant to the royal family. I have an obligation to respect and earn the respect of my lieges."

For a moment, Takumi is too shocked to come up with a proper reply. "I...I always imagined you held yourself above what others thought of you."

Tsubaki blinks at Takumi, then laughs--that same laugh that always puts Takumi on the defensive, full and loud. "You misconstrue my confidence as conceit."

Takumi shrugs, fighting the heat that rises up the back of his neck. "Looks like at least a little bit of both to me."

_Though I suppose if I were even half as confident as you I would probably be just as conceited._

Tsubaki's entire expression lifts, eyebrows shooting up and mouth curving into a grin. "Sorry, what was that?"

Takumi pauses, unsure of what has Tsubaki so delighted all of a sudden. But it only takes another moment for him to realise he might have just made a huge mistake. "Did I, ah...say that out loud?"

"Lord Takumi," says Tsubaki, eyes twinkling, and there is something in his voice that makes Takumi wish he could just disappear on the spot. "You mustn't go about advertising your insecurities to the army like this, or else morale will go down."

"I wasn't--!" Takumi pinches the bridge of his nose and grimaces. "I didn't mean to say that...least of all to you. I know you wouldn't really understand, since everything comes so naturally to you."

Tsubaki's smile widens, only to turn into something soft and perhaps a bit awkward. "The truth is, my confidence..." He hesitates, then seems to change his mind. "Well, that's not important."

"Either way, now that you've heard me say that..." Takumi sighs. "I'll admit that I do admire your confidence, Tsubaki."

"Oh--well, thank you, Lord Takumi," says Tsubaki. "That means a lot to me."

Takumi shrugs, like he's trying to shake off the awkward tension in the atmosphere between them. "I'm sure. Anyway, see you around." He tries to step around Tsubaki, but Tsubaki simply blocks his way again. Silently, he curses the height advantage Tsubaki has over him.

"You still haven't let me properly apologise."

"Do as you please!" Takumi snaps. "Just quit bugging me already."

Tsubaki doesn't budge. "Well, the thing is...I think I've come up with an idea for how I can make up for my earlier mistake, but it's probably going to take some cooperation on your part, as well."

"Please, don't bother," Takumi pleads flatly.

"Lord Takumi, you should learn how to have more confidence in yourself," says Tsubaki. "You're a leader figure in this army, and everyone looks up to you--including me."

Takumi ignores the last part in favor of curling his lip. "And what are you going to do, teach me how to be more confident?"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets them.

"Would you mind that terribly?" asks Tsubaki, though Takumi can already tell he won't be taking no for an answer.

"I would mind it tremendously, thanks," Takumi says nonetheless. "Look, you really don't owe me anything--"

"There's no need to be shy, Lord Takumi," says Tsubaki. "I happen to be a perfect teacher."

"In addition to being a perfect halfwit, no doubt," Takumi mutters.

"So what do you say?" asks Tsubaki, ignoring Takumi's jab at him. It's infuriating.

Takumi scowls. Somehow, he feels like he's jumped out of the frying pan only to land himself straight into the fire. "Like I said, do as you please. Just make sure you get it over with quickly."

Finally satisfied, Tsubaki steps aside to let Takumi make his escape without any more clever remarks, but somehow the smug grin he wears as he watches him go doesn't make Takumi feel as good about it as he was hoping it would.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was going to be a oneshot tbh but i wanted to space these out so it wouldnt be overwhelming...and also bc im too slow at editing. ch 3 tomorrow..enjoy!

Unfortunately, Takumi only gets one day to himself before Tsubaki is back to make good on his promise.

"Ready for your first lesson, Lord Takumi?" Tsubaki asks during breakfast in the mess hall. Without waiting for an invitation, he sits down across from Takumi to watch him finish the last of his gruel.

With a sigh, Takumi puts his bowl down on the table. "Does it really have to be right now?"

Tsubaki smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling charmingly. "First step to being more confident: don't give yourself time to lose your nerve."

"Lose my...! I'm not--"

"Come along now, Lord Takumi!" Tsubaki rises from the table and, though he could easily just leave in the opposite direction, Takumi feels compelled to follow him anyway, dropping his bowl off hastily in the sinks on the way out.

"You don't have to call me that, you know," Takumi says as Tsubaki leads him across the castle grounds.

"Call you what?"

"Lord, or whatever. No one who talks to me regularly actually addresses me that way," Takumi says. "You can just call me by my name."

"Why, Lord Takumi--" Tsubaki's grin widens when he sees the way Takumi's eyebrow twitches at the use of the title "--is this perhaps the suggestion of a long and prosperous friendship between the two of us?"

"Don't push it," says Takumi. "I just get tired of hearing it all the time."

"Lady Sakura has expressed the same sentiment before," Tsubaki says. They walk past the rice paddy, and for an odd moment Tsubaki goes quiet, letting his gaze sweep across the green fields. But before Takumi can let himself savor this moment of peace, he goes right back to talking. "She says dropping the honorifics makes her feel closer to the soldiers under her care."

Takumi shrugs. "I guess that's part of it," he says, and doesn't admit that he simply doesn't feel as if he's worth the respect and responsibility the title carries.

"Well, I think you have the right idea," says Tsubaki, and Takumi tries to ignore the way his condescending tone grates on his nerves. As if he cares whether or not Tsubaki thinks he’s doing it right. "The best way to earn respect from your underlings is to get to know them, and to do that you'll need to be confident enough to talk to them in casual conversation!"

"Oh," says Takumi, realising now what Tsubaki's plan is as the barracks come into view. "So you're just going to make me talk to the soldiers? I do that all the time."

If Tsubaki keeps smiling at him, that smile might just start haunting Takumi in his dreams. "Only when you have something to say, right?” Tsubaki says. “This is about making small talk, and getting to know each other."

"Sounds pointless," grumbles Takumi. He glances back down the path, wondering if he should just turn around and leave, but Tsubaki looks back at him in that moment, as if he's already anticipating. 

Instead of bailing, Takumi settles for scowling deeply. "Small talk is a waste of time. And it's awkward."

"It is if you don't know how to carry it out properly," says Tsubaki. "If you're confident and together, then it can turn into something pleasant and refreshing. Watch."

Tsubaki takes Takumi into one of the lounge rooms, where several soldiers are milling about, playing card games and conversing in small groups.

Takumi hesitates at the door, and Tsubaki doesn’t try to get him to follow as he walks up to a pair of soldiers who appear to be inspecting their armor together. "Morning."

One of them, a female soldier holding a chest plate that Takumi recognises as part of the lancer's uniform, looks up. "Oh, it's Tsubaki. Hey."

"Lovely day, isn't it? Are you guys ready for the march this afternoon?" says Tsubaki.

Takumi blinks. The question seems random, but the lancer's companion, a diviner holding a scroll that appears to be in a rather bad shape, answers easily, "I suppose. I just need to get this thing blessed again so that it won't sputter out on me like it did in the last battle."

"How have things been with you, Tsubaki?" asks the lancer, before her smile turns dry. "Besides 'perfect, as usual?'"

Tsubaki laughs. "Well, you can't blame me for being consistent."

Takumi watches as the three of them share a laugh, and tries to wrap his head around the whole thing. They're just wasting time, standing around and talking about meaningless things, when they could be spending their time training.

"Prince Takumi?" 

Takumi jumps a little, and hopes to the gods the heat in his cheeks isn't visible when he turns towards the voice that pulled him out of his thoughts. 

A group of soldiers playing cards at a table have paused their game to stare up at him. 

"Uhm, hi," Takumi says, raising his hand awkwardly and suddenly wishing he hadn't agreed to this whole thing. 

"Did you need something, my lord?" one of the soldiers asks, rising halfway out of his seat as if ready to carry out any errand that might be asked of him. 

"N-no, I was just--I was just stopping by. I should--"  _ I should go _ , he has to force himself not to say. 

He swallows and sweeps his gaze across the room, and thinks about how the soldier's first instinct was to assume that he needed something. These are all faces he vaguely recognises, but he realises now that he's never actually stopped to really talk to any of them except to give orders. They live in close quarters with each other--all of the royal siblings reside in the barracks with the rest of the army. Takumi is sure he greets most of these soldiers in passing on a regular basis, but it is always with his eyes lowered, while he is on his way to some other destination. He’s never stopped for long enough to have a real conversation, however brief--not even a  _ how are you _ .

Takumi looks back up to where Tsubaki is still talking with the lancer and the diviner. The three of them are completely absorbed in their conversation. None of the other soldiers pay Takumi much attention--they're sure that he won't approach them unless he has something to speak to them about.

The three at the table continue to look up at him, waiting,  _ expecting _ something, and Takumi’s mind blanks. 

"I, uhm...thought I would come by for a little chat," he manages to finally get out in a rather dry voice, and cringes inwardly at how ingenuine it sounds.

For a short, agonizing moment, it seems as though no one is sure how to respond.

"Ah..." Takumi feels his heart sink a little. Perhaps he shouldn't have done this, after all, he thinks, trying desperately to figure out what it is that made it so easy for Tsubaki to spark up a conversation out of nowhere when all Takumi is getting is blank stares. 

"Sorry, I'm--" Takumi pauses to breathe in, but the air is too light, too large. It swells in his chest and refuses to come out, making his head spin slightly. "I--I should go. Sorry for bothering you guys."

Takumi turns and doesn’t so much walk away as he does flee with his tail hanging between his legs, and any protests or voices of concern the soldiers express are distant and muffled in his ears as he stumbles out of the room, eyes fixed on the ground.

The air outside the barracks is fresher, sits much calmer in his lungs, but it still takes him a while of deep breathing to clear his head and stop feeling like his knees might buckle out from underneath him.

"Takumi?"

Takumi straightens up reflexively, but it's only Tsubaki, making his way towards him with a look of mild concern furrowing his delicate brow.

"Are you okay?" Tsubaki asks, leaning in, and Takumi takes a halted step backwards.

"I'm fine, I just--" Takumi runs a hand over his face. "I'm just really bad at talking to people."

“I've noticed," says Tsubaki, and Takumi bears his teeth, ready to come up with a sharp retort--but Tsubaki is smiling at him gently, nothing but patience in those dark eyes of his. "But I think you made progress."

"All I did was stutter at them and then storm out for no apparent reason," says Takumi. "Hardly looks like progress to me." He steadfastly ignores the way a strange warmth begins swelling in his chest, where just a minute ago his lungs were about to burst.

"Gaining confidence isn't something that happens all at once, you know," says Tsubaki. "It's all baby steps."

_ This coming from the guy who can do anything right on the first try _ . "Why are you so patient with me?"

"Hm? Because it takes patience to teach someone."

"No, I mean...why me? Why can't you just..." Takumi grits his teeth and hates that he can't bring himself to look Tsubaki in the eyes as he says, "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

When Tsubaki doesn't answer right away, Takumi is certain he's hurt his feelings, but  _ gods _ , he hadn't meant for it to come out like, he only wanted to understand--

"Because I want to be your friend."

Takumi can't help the way his head snaps up. "What?"

Tsubaki gives Takumi a crooked smile--it's different from all the other ones, uneasy but earnest. "I admire you, Lord Takumi. You're a kind person, and you have the makings of a great leader. I want to be your friend."

"I'm not as great as you think I am," says Takumi automatically. "I'm none of those things, and all I do is drag other people down with me. I’m not worth the energy."

"I think that should be up to the people around you to decide," says Tsubaki. "You're the one who said I could do as I pleased, didn't you?"

The feeling in Takumi’s chest turns cold. "Look, I get it, all right? I'm your pet project. Just...hurry up and get this over with soon so I can go back to doing something actually worth my time."

_ Like sitting around alone and wallowing in self-pity. _

Tsubaki's eyes widen, and Takumi is instantly ashamed at himself for not being able to hold his gaze. But the disappointment sits heavy and hollow in the back of his throat and against his chest, this is  _ Tsubaki’s _ fault, he’s sure. 

"Takumi, that was never my intention," Tsubaki says, but it echoes empty in Takumi’s ears.

"I'd prefer if you didn't address me so casually," says Takumi before Tsubaki can make any more useless excuses. "Try to remember your place."

Takumi turns around and stalks away before he can see Tsubaki's expression twist with hurt.

-:-

Takumi's favorite place at the castle is the ore spring. It is, in his opinion, the most beautiful spot in the castle. The water is clean and cool--too cold for swimming in, but crisp and sweet to drink. And it is clear enough that all one needs to do is lean over it to be able to see the small, brightly colored quartz pieces lying just mere inches away, at the bottom of the spring.

It is in the early morning that he comes out to sit at the bank, dipping his bare feet in to let the cold wake him up as he admires the sunrise.

Normally, on days that he knows the army is scheduled to march, he gets up early to do some training. After all, at this point they've all grown accustomed to expecting battle on a march. Today, however, he finds himself at the spring because he wants to be able to look at his reflection in the still water and tell himself that he was right to push Tsubaki away.

_ Could have been a little nicer about it _ , he thinks, remembering the last words he said to him.

Perfect, polite Tsubaki. Takumi wonders if anyone has ever talked to him like that, wonders if he's actually ever done anything to deserve such treatment, and only feels worse.

He wonders if Tsubaki is a spiteful person. Will he go around speaking ill of Takumi, whispering to the other soldiers of the terrible treatment he's suffered at the younger prince's hand? They would believe him, especially since he wouldn't be wrong. Takumi wonders what it would be like to have all the soldiers under his command, the ones whose lives he is responsible for, to hate him.

Takumi squeezes his eyes closed against the clean white light of the rising sun and shakes his head. Tsubaki is a better person than that--Sakura trusts him, and Takumi tries to tell himself that that should be proof.

For a second, Takumi gets distracted thinking about his own retainers. Oboro and Hinata are bright and brave and loyal. They've been at his side for years, and never wavered despite seeing the worst sides of him on the regular. 

Yet every day Takumi is sure that they will grow tired of him eventually. 

And gods, it's pathetic that he can’t get over himself when all his life he has only been shown love and acceptance from those around him, but--

Better to expect the worst from people than to face the disappointment that comes from expecting better.

Takumi stares down at his reflection as he kicks his feet in the water, sending out ripples that distort his expression into something long and bent, and wishes he could just know how people saw him. Knowing the truth, no matter how disappointing it may be, is probably better than never knowing at all.

The grass behind him rustles, and he turns to look over his shoulder.

"Good morning," says Sakura. She seems to have only just woken up, still dressed in her sleeping yukata while her hair sticks out at absurd angles atop her head. The chilly morning air doesn't seem to bother her, however, as she smiles gently at Takumi and sits down next to him on the damp grass.

"What are you doing up so early?" Takumi says.

"I saw you come out here a while ago," Sakura says. "I was wondering if you had something on your mind and thought you might want someone to talk about it with."

"I was just..." Takumi kicks his feet again, and beside his reflection, Sakura's ripples as well. When he looks up at her, her smile falls slightly, eyebrows arching up in concern. 

"It's nothing," he says. 

Sakura understands him the most out of all their siblings. Ryoma and Hinoka are kind and strong--they love with all their hearts, Takumi knows, but Sakura is the only one who has felt the same insecurities he has felt. So he knows that Sakura can tell he's lying, but she only hesitates for a second before simply nodding.

"All right," she says softly. She lowers her head slightly and bunches her yukata in her hands. It isn't a gesture that comes out very often anymore, but Takumi knows it well--she does it when she is preparing herself to say something that requires much thought.

They used to know everything about each other. For as long as Takumi can remember, they always went to each other at the first sign of trouble--from scraped knees and teary eyes to social gatherings where they were too nervous to talk without holding onto each other. Even now, not much has changed.

As they sit here together, Takumi finds himself relaxing in Sakura's presence, though he has nothing to say to her just yet, and Sakura leans against his shoulder with a content sigh even as Takumi can practically hear the gears still turning in her head.

"Are you nervous about today's march?" Sakura asks softly after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

Takumi remembers then that they are marching towards Nohr today. When it comes to things like marching and being ready for battle, Takumi found long ago that he has nothing to fear as long as he has the Fujin Yumi at his side.

"Are you?" Takumi asks Sakura.

It's a question they used to ask each other often. At the beginning of the war, when they were both adamant about joining to help in any way they could, but didn't know just what would be expected of them and what sorts of trials and difficulties they would face, they often found that there was no one to turn to but each other. Before their first battle together, Takumi remembers they had come together, sitting in the corner of Takumi's tent, and held each others' hands to calm each other down.

"I'll keep you safe," Takumi had promised Sakura, though he knew he had yet to make a proper shot from his bow without his hand shaking.

"And I'll keep you alive," Sakura had promised back, though she still flinched every time she saw even the slightest hint of blood.

Yet they had survived every battle up until now, and not just because of each other, for their retainers and allies were always there as well, but Takumi knows they still find comfort in each other sometimes in the heat of battle. Just a glance in the other's direction to keep themselves calm, keep themselves grounded.

"I'm a little nervous, yes," Sakura admits. "I know we've been through many battles now, but this will be our first time fighting on Nohrian territory. Somehow, I feel like that gives them the advantage, and I don't really know what to expect."

Takumi nods. Whether he's spilling Nohrian blood on Hoshidan soil or Nohrian soil doesn't make much of a different to him, but he can see where Sakura's coming from. The Nohrians have the advantage here; still, Takumi knows they will pull through, if only because they have no choice.

"Your retainers will keep you safe," he says to Sakura. "Hana and--Tsubaki are excellent soldiers."

Sakura notices the way Takumi hesitates in saying Tsubaki's name right away. "Takumi..."

Still, Takumi feigns ignorance. Just for a little longer, he wants to stop having to think about this any more than he already has.

"Takumi," Sakura says again, more firmly this time, and it reminds Takumi of their mother. They have the same eyes, Takumi has noticed lately, the same tempered steel in their gazes both in battle and out of it.

Takumi frowns slightly. "If this is about your retainer, he's the one who started it."

Sakura huffs out a small laugh. "I wasn't going to blame either of you for 'starting' anything. I just wanted you to know that whatever he might have said to you, he was being sincere."

"How would you know?"

Sakura smiles--a small, knowing smile. That one she must have gotten from their mother as well. "Because whatever you said back has had him distracted for days now."

Takumi's stomach flips a little. "I--I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. If I'd known it would affect his performance under your service--"

"No, it's nothing serious," says Sakura. "He still performs just as well as usual. I...I've just noticed that he's been rather forlorn over these past couple of days."

"That's hard to imagine from someone as self-assured as him," mutters Takumi through the pang of guilt in his chest.

"He's a little more sensitive than he lets on," Sakura says. "Still, you don't have to talk to him if you don't want to. Just know that if you do choose to...you should probably start with an apology. As will he."

"All right, I get it," says Takumi with a small sigh. "If he comes to me I'll...do something about it. I just don't get why he kept getting on my case. Was he like that with you when you chose him to be your retainer?"

"Like what?"

"Like he...wanted to fix you, or something. Maybe you 'better,' I guess."

"Ah...Hm..." Sakura smooths her yukata out from where she was crinkling it earlier. "He did try to help me with my shyness at first, but I don't think it was because he thought I needed fixing...I think he just wanted to help."

Takumi's only reply is a skeptical look, eyebrow cocked.

"He isn't very good at expressing it, but Tsubaki very much values his friends, and he thinks it's important that they value themselves, as well," says Sakura.

"We're not friends," Takumi mutters. 

Sakura's smile doesn't falter. "I couldn't tell you why Tsubaki has taken such a liking to you, but I do know that any time he wants to befriend someone, it's because he sees in them something he lacks."

"It's hard to imagine someone like me having something he doesn't," says Takumi. "Unless he's been searching for crippling self-esteem issues all this time."

Sakura laughs softly and bumps his shoulder, and he bumps her back. They lean against each other and watch the sun rise over the horizon.

"Do you ever think about how we could just stay in this world forever and forget about the war if we really wanted to?" says Takumi.

"Every day," replies Sakura without missing a beat. "But running away isn't really an option for us, is it?"

"No," says Takumi. The clean, bright light crawls over the peaks of the mountains in the distance and strikes the water in the ore spring, scattering little white diamonds over the crystal surface. "It never was."

-:-

Nohrian forces ambush them in the Forest of Lost Souls.

Well, there are fewer Nohrian forces and mostly just hordes of Faceless, clambering in droves out of the dark, murky swamp water all around them, clawing at them with their giant, ugly hands and growling at them from behind their black masks.

And at the head of it all, Prince Leo sits atop his horse, brewing his dark magic from behind a wall of Faceless who act as his shields.

"Coward!" Takumi snarls, drawing the Fujin Yumi and aiming it at the Nohrian prince, but his arrows find nothing but rotted flesh as the Faceless rise, one after the other, to protect their master.

"Forget about Leo for now!" Corrin commands. "Just focus on cutting your way through these Faceless."

Takumi grits his teeth as Leo disappears from his line of sight, leaving behind only a wisp of blue magical energy and a smug grin.  _ Easy for you to say _ , he thinks, gripping the Fujin Yumi so hard it hurts. This may well be the only chance Takumi will get to face Prince Leo on the battlefield for a long time. He wants to be the one to wipe that derisive grin off his face--he's fairly certain he would give anything to be right there when the light of life fades from his black, soulless eyes.

So he ignores Corrin's order and charges forward.

The Faceless are slow and Takumi uses that to his advantage, dodging around the ones near him and picking off the ones ahead of him to clear the way. Someone calls his name, but he pays them no mind.

If he can be the one to take down Prince Leo, to cripple the Nohrian army in this moment, at the beginning of their march into the heart of Nohr--

Then nothing else will matter, now that Takumi will finally be worth something--

His vision goes black.

Takumi stops, holding the Fujin Yumi close to him. He can hear sounds of activity from all around him--feet shuffling, armor and chains clinking, but nothing in his line of sight changes from the thick, deafening blackness that surrounds him.

"I'm not afraid of you," he grinds out from between his teeth. "You and your little magic tricks--come out here and fight me like a true warrior, Prince Leo!"

"Come and find me, Prince Takumi," Leo replies, his voice far too close, and Takumi lashes out with his bow, but makes no contact. "Or is it a little too dark for you to see?"

Takumi lets out an enraged growl and makes towards the direction of the voice, but his feet are too heavy. Something cool and moist bunches up against his ankles, and it isn't until the sharp sting of acid burns against his skin that he realises he's been tricked into stepping into the forest mire. 

Immediately, his chest tightens, breath quickening and heat rising up his back as panic sets in. He forces himself back several steps, the mire so heavy it takes everything he has not to fall over in his haste, but can't seem to find any dry ground. A choked yell sticks in his throat, and he swallows it down even as frustration stings hard behind his eyes.

"What's the matter?" Leo's voice echoes in the pitch black around Takumi, taunting in its omnipresence. "You're not afraid of the dark, are you?"

A hot, dry fury rushes out of Takumi in the form of a roar that scratches its way past its throat and burns against his lips. " _ I'm going to kill you! _ "

Leo's reply begins with the sharp chime of a magical spell activating. "Not if I kill you first."

Green light explodes in Takumi's vision.

"Lord Takumi!"

He only has a split second to recognise the voice as Tsubaki's before there is another flash of the same clean, green light, warm and sharp and accompanied by the sound of wood creaking as Leo's magic races its way towards him.

Takumi flinches and curls reflexively around the Fujin Yumi. He'll feel the magical energy first--it will singe his clothes and his skin--and then the truly dangerous part of the spell will be the branches, springing from the ground and piercing his skin, tearing through muscle and bone--

But the blow that comes is not what he expects. It comes from the side, slamming into him with enough force to knock him out of the mire and send him sprawling on the dry forest ground several feet away.

A pained cry rings out, but it isn't his. He scrambles to his feet, barely feeling the ache in his side where he was struck or the throbbing in his knees where he landed. 

A pegasus lets out a shrill whinny, and in the fading light of the spell, Takumi spots a flash of crimson hair falling free from a shattered ornamental clip. 

And then Takumi is drawing the Fujin Yumi, letting its light guide his aim where his anger clouds it, and releases an arrow without hesitation. He watches as it blazes a bright blue path through the darkness before piercing clean through Leo's shoulder with enough momentum to knock him off his mount.

Leo crashes to the ground with an agonized cry, and instantly the darkness around Takumi dissipates.

Takumi gasps as his surroundings, dark and dull, bleed back into his vision.

Leo lies on the ground on the other side of the mire, clutching his shoulder and groaning in pain as blood pours from his wound.

_ I win _ , Takumi opens his mouth to say, but the only thing that comes out is a rushed whisper.

"Tsubaki--"

He turns around, frantically searching the field for the one who had taken the attack meant for him, and spots a curtain of familiar crimson hair, splashed across the ground like paint. Blood pools underneath Tsubaki’s body, flowing too fast to soak into the muddy ground, and then Takumi is there kneeling at his side, dropping the Fujin Yumi and bringing his hands up to press against the gaping wound in his side.

"Oh, gods," Takumi breathes as Tsubaki's warm blood spills through this fingers.

Tsubaki doesn't flinch at the contact, his dark eyes glassy as they rove about with no focus.

"Tsubaki." A fierce, panicked heat, relentless in the way it makes his head swim and cuts his breath short, flushes at the back of Takumi’s neck and at his temples. Sweat pours from his forehead, stinging his eyes like tears as Tsubaki wheezes in short, rattled breaths. 

"Why did you take that blow for me?" Takumi asks desperately.  _ Why for me, of all people? _

Tsubaki's gaze rests on Takumi--their eyes meet, and something like recognition flashes in them. His lips move. No sound comes out, but Takumi hears his name nonetheless.

"I'm sorry," Takumi gasps. "I'm so sorry--if I hadn't--"

"Tsubaki!" Sakura's voice is shrill with horror as it cuts the air above them, and Takumi drops back on his heels as his sister falls to her knees at her retainer's side.

"I-it should have been me," Takumi tries to say, but Sakura is already holding her Moon Festal out over Tsubaki's wound, closing her eyes tightly and murmuring something that sounds more like a prayer than an incantation.

The Moon Festal chimes, silver bells filling the air, and Takumi doesn’t hear his name being called until there's a gentle hand on his shoulder, strong and warm. He looks up, eyes wide, to see Oboro and Hinata standing over him, expressions pinched with concern.

"Are you okay?" asks Hinata, holding his hand out.

Takumi's hand shakes as he puts it in Hinata's, and he wobbles on his feet, but Oboro doesn't let him fall.

"You're not hurt are you?" Oboro asks, scanning him for injuries, and Takumi shakes his head numbly. "That was incredible--you took Prince Leo out in one hit."

_ Prince Leo _ . The name is hollow in the back of Takumi's mind. He turns and looks back down at Tsubaki, whose blood has congealed in his hair, sticking like dye, but it's too dark and too thick--the wrong color, the wrong red. His skin is deathly pale and his eyes have closed, but Sakura keeps working, never letting the glow of the rod fade.

Takumi swallows down the sick feeling that churns in his stomach at the sound of Tsubaki's body pulling back together under the magic of the Moon Festal, tissue reconnecting itself and muscle becoming whole again.

"He'll be okay, won't he?" Takumi asks. "He..."

"He will," Hinata replies immediately, and the forced certainty in his voice rattles something deep in Takumi's gut.

"You need to get some rest, Lord Takumi," Oboro says quietly, putting her hand back on his shoulder and turning him away, towards the portal to the castle that Corrin has opened.

"I need to stay, to make sure--"

"There's nothing you can do." Hinata hasn't taken his eyes off the ground this entire time, but his tone is firm and he steps into Takumi's personal space, urging him towards the portal.

"I'm sorry," says Takumi, not sure what it is anymore he’s apologizing. "Hinata, Oboro--I'm sorry. If I didn't--"

"Let's just go home," is all Oboro says, and the only way Takumi manages to hold back his tears is by clenching his jaw so hard the entire way home that it hurts for hours afterwards, even as he is lying in his futon that night and hating the way the darkness still makes him tremble.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is. youve noticed that this story is extremely and unnecessarily dramatic. thats because i am also extremely and unnecessarily dramatic, and i live for that shit. enjoy!

It is with the startling realisation that he never brought the Fujin Yumi back to the castle with him that Takumi bolts out of his futon the next morning just before the sun has risen.

Takumi scrambles to his feet, sleep still leaden in his limbs and the morning chill sharp against his ankles and his neck. He pulls his yukata tighter around himself and curses himself for letting his attention slip as he races out of the barracks and towards the armory. Surely, someone must have picked it up for him in the aftermath of the battle.

_ It's safe, _ he assures himself as the cold sting of the dew-covered grass hits the soles of his bare feet. He clenches his fists hard enough to leave angry red indents in his palms.

How typical of him, to make so many stupid mistakes in a row after preaching to himself about being more careful, being  _ better _ , and all because he couldn't hold in his childish anger.

If only he hadn't charged ahead, if only he could just learn to hold back, then Tsubaki wouldn't have--

Takumi freezes to a stop, feet skidding over the dirt path just a few steps away from the armory.

_ Tsubaki _ .

Takumi had gone straight to bed after the battle last night, and hadn't received any news about Tsubaki's condition--whether he'd  _ survived _ \--

Immediately, Takumi changes course, anxiety and guilt rising thick in his chest. The infirmary is on the other side of the castle grounds, and by the time he gets there he's panting from the exertion of sprinting the entire way. 

Takumi pauses at the entrance. A large, circular symbol has been painted onto the door with black ink. Straight-edged patterns cross over each other inside the circle, and Takumi recognises it as an old-fashioned warding seal, used by diviners and priests to ward off bad luck. Nowadays, the belief that bad luck gathers around the unfortunate or the desperate to create worse luck is considered nothing more than superstition and Sakura isn’t superstitious, but one of the other healers must have done it anyway after yesterday’s disaster of a battle.

Whatever Takumi finds on the other side, what will he do to make up for it? 

"Lord Takumi?" The voice comes from behind him, and he swivels, stiff. 

"Oh--" Takumi jolts at the sight of crimson hair and dark eyes.

Tsubaki is dressed in a white, loosely tied yukata. His hair sits loosely over his shoulder, some of it bent and sticking out at odd angles, and his skin is still pale, but holds a little more color than it did when Takumi last saw him. A layer of bandages is visible around his middle and he holds one arm over it, as if just standing there is causing him some measure of pain, but he smiles at Takumi nonetheless. 

"Good morning, Lord Takumi."

"You--you're..." Takumi hesitates.  _ All right _ isn't exactly the word for it, he realises with a pang of guilt, but it's certainly better seeing Tsubaki standing here in front of him than lying cold on an infirmary cot. 

"I'm glad you're okay," Tsubaki says as if Takumi is the one wrapped in bandages, and the warmth in his voice is something that Takumi knows he doesn't deserve. 

"You should be resting," says Takumi. "It's--it's too early for anyone to be up." 

"Yet here you are," Tsubaki replies with an amused smile--the one that used to make the hairs on the back of Takumi's neck stand on end. Now, it only makes Takumi wither, voice small as he says, 

"I was looking for something."

Tsubaki lifts his other hand, and Takumi instantly recognises the curve of the metalwork, the inscriptions in the ivory. The Fujin Yumi. "This, right?"

Takumi lunges for it before he can stop himself, snatching it out of Tsubaki's hand and pulling it close to his chest.

Tsubaki doesn't seem to mind. "I asked Lady Sakura to leave it with me so that I could give it back to you personally. I wanted to talk to you."

Takumi's grip on the Fujin Yumi tightens, and if it feels like he's holding it in front of him like some kind of shield, he's willing to accept just this once that he doesn't have the strength to face what's bound to come next without it.

"I...I know I owe you my gratitude for saving my life," says Takumi. "And...my apologies. If I hadn't been so reckless in that battle, you wouldn't have--"

"Been nearly killed by Prince Leo's spell, yes?" Tsubaki interrupts in an uncharacteristic moment of hastiness. "Well, that's certainly something that may merit discussion in the future, but that's not actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

Takumi sputters. "You...you nearly died for me. It's my fault you're in so much pain right now."

Tsubaki's smile only widens. "As I said, it will come up later, I'm sure. For now, it’s important that you hear me out on what I have to say." Tsubaki steps back and beckons at Takumi, and Takumi follows him as he heads away from the infirmary.

The castle grounds are still relatively empty, except for the occasional early riser. Tsubaki takes him to the western end of the castle, past the ore spring, and over to where the rice paddies are. At the edge of the field, there is a small wooden bench. Tsubaki hesitates in front of it, and Takumi rushes over to help him sit down, taking his arm and supporting him around the waist.

Tsubaki is warm and solid, but from this close, with his cheek pressed up against Tsubaki’s shoulder, Takumi can hear his breathing hitch slightly from the pain as he lowers him onto the bench.

"Thank you," Tsubaki says. His bright expression doesn’t change as he looks up at Takumi and pats the seat next to him.

"Oh--" Takumi sits down next to him, leaving some space between them.

He glances up at Tsubaki, wondering what they're doing here, and notices the way Tsubaki's hair catches in the morning's sunlight, gleaming like coral gemstone. He looks away quickly when Tsubaki turns to meet his gaze.

"Um," he says quickly before Tsubaki can make any comments. "What was it that you wanted to talk about?"

"Well...there's actually quite a lot," Tsubaki replies slowly, as if he's still working it out in his mind.

_ Great _ , Takumi thinks.  _ He's probably got a list of all the ways I've managed to offend him since day one. _

"I don't often have free time," Tsubaki starts, staring off towards the rice paddies. "But I try to come out here every once in a while, when no one else is around."

Takumi follows his gaze, sweeping his eyes across the fields. The little green rice shoots sway softly to a breeze too gentle for him to feel, and he finds that watching them relaxes him in a way that reminds him of the ore spring.

"It helps me think," Tsubaki continues, voice low and even. It’s different from the way he usually speaks, softer and somehow more genuine. "Especially in the mornings, before the day has started. It gives me time to remind myself that I need to slow down sometimes."

"You?" Takumi says incredulously. "Slow down?"

Tsubaki drops his head and chuckles softly. "Being perfect and appearing to be perfect are two very different things. The former is impossible, for one. I just make it seem possible by being really good at the latter."

Takumi tries to feel irritated at that--he's obviously bragging, but something about the way he says it is heavy, like the words themselves are weighing him down as he speaks them. "It's not easy, is it? Even for someone as talented as you."

"I was born with natural talent, yes," Tsubaki admits easily, but his expression is troubled, brow knitted and mouth turned down. "Talent will only take you so far. And sometimes I wonder if maybe..."

Tsubaki falls silent. Takumi looks up at him, and resists the urge to reach up and smooth out his wrinkled brow. This time, when Tsubaki looks back at him, he doesn't avert his gaze. Tsubaki's fair skin sets a stark contrast against the bright bangs framing his face, but there is a subtle pink dusted across his cheeks that tells Takumi he is healthy--or at least doing better than he was last night.

It's Tsubaki who looks away this time, turning his gaze back up towards the fields. "You know, from here you can see a small clearing in the surrounding forest," he says, and he points straight ahead to a clump of trees that strikes Takumi instantly as familiar.

"Oh..." says Takumi. "That's my..."

"Your secret training area, right?"

Heat rises to Takumi's cheeks. "You don't have to say it like that. It's just where I go when I want to train on my own."

Something resembling anxiety flits across Tsubaki's face, and Takumi remembers the disaster of a first conversation they’d had weeks ago. "I, ah--I wasn't trying to..."

"No, it's fine," Takumi says quickly. "I wasn't offended, or anything."

Tsubaki bites his lip, still looking troubled. "It's...difficult, talking about my own weaknesses," Tsubaki admits quietly. "I feel like my mind is all over the place right now."

Takumi's eyes widen, but he tries to cover his surprise with a smile that he hopes is reassuring. "Finally, something we have in common."

Tsubaki's expression softens a little when he sees Takumi's smile. Takumi fidgets with his hair, tugging at the knots and barely noticing the way it stings every time he pulls one free. When Tsubaki doesn’t say anything, Takumi clears his throat.

"So, what?” he says. “You've seen me training in the mornings?"

Tsubaki ducks his head. "I hope you can forgive me for this, but when I first learned of your prowess in battle, I assumed it was due to the power of your bow."

"It is," says Takumi, hating himself the moment he says it.

"And yet every morning you're there, training by yourself before most of the army is even awake," says Tsubaki. "The first time I saw you there was about a month ago; you trained for hours. I've never met anyone with so much conviction."

Takumi's grip tightens almost defensively around the Fujin Yumi, though if Tsubaki notices he doesn't say anything. "That’s rich coming from the one person who probably spends the most time training out of everyone in the army.”  _ Someone like you...I could never catch up _ .

"It was hard to accept at first," Tsubaki continues. "How obvious it was that despite everything I put into maintaining the image of perfection, someone as young as you was already rapidly overtaking me." 

"I'm not a kid," Takumi bites out, though the hostility is more reflexive than genuine. 

Tsubaki gives him a placating smile before turning back towards the fields. "Your convictions are born of your love for your people and your drive to become a great leader. Mine are born of my obsession with perfection. It's only natural that no matter how hard I work, I will only end up spreading myself thin over such a conceited and selfish motivation."

Takumi clenches his hands into fists. "You keep saying all these things that aren't true about me."

"Do you really think they're untrue? Or are they just things you're not willing to believe about yourself?"

"I'm not..." Takumi trails off, looking down at his bare feet, covered in dirt and scrapes. There are still some minor burns from the forest mire around the top of his feet and his ankles, but he barely feels them. The wet, marshy ground underneath them now is cool and feels good against his skin, never mind that he'll have to walk back to the barracks with dirt all over his feet. He glances over and notices that Tsubaki is wearing a pair of straw sandals, and doesn't seem to care that they've gotten dirty as well.

"That day, when I tried to teach you how to be more confident...it wasn't because I thought you were lacking in any way," says Tsubaki. "I just thought that maybe doing that would help you see what I see in you, eventually."

"And what is it that you could possibly see in someone like me?"

"I said it already, didn't I? You draw your strength from your devotion to the people around you. That sacred bow isn't what makes you powerful. It chose you because you already are powerful."  Tsubaki puts a hand over his wound, and Takumi wonders with a twinge of guilt if it is hurting, though the other doesn't show any signs.

"No matter how highly you think of me, it doesn't change the fact that I messed up during yesterday's battle. You nearly lost your life to save mine," Takumi says. "I'll always owe you for that."

Tsubaki fidgets with the knot securing hs bandage, as if he wants to undo it, but then takes his hand off his side. "Do you remember the day we had that first conversation?"

Takumi looks down at his forearm. Sakura had healed it completely that day with her staff, but there are still times when it twinges with some ghostly, faded pain. It isn't a foreign phenomenon--in fact, it's fairly common among those who receive regular treatment from healing rods. As convenient as it is, the accelerated regeneration is unnatural, and the body knows--or rather, it remembers the wounds it has sustained long after they have healed.

Every soldier bears these invisible scars, and it is one of the few things that makes Takumi feel like he belongs.

When Takumi looks up, he realises that Tsubaki is staring at his arm as well.

"The wound you sustained during that battle--"

"You saw it happen," Takumi realises before Tsubaki can finish. He clenches his hand into a fist. "Don't tell me you jumped in front of me yesterday because you thought I couldn't defend myself--"

"Takumi, no," Tsubaki says. "Please, listen to me."

Takumi stiffens and looks down at his lap. The Fujin Yumi lies crooked across his legs and, irrelevantly, he realises that it’s starting to get rather heavy. He considers putting it down next to him on the bench, but then Tsubaki says, 

"It's true that I saw what happened that battle."

"Oh, good," mutters Takumi, remembering the way he'd gotten himself locked in that pathetic tussle with his attacker before he'd managed to put enough distance between them to finish him off.

"It's true that you were rather reckless," says Tsubaki, "but you didn't jump into that battle for no reason. You noticed that another soldier was being flanked and you rushed in to protect them, didn’t you?"

Takumi bites his lip. "I just acted on instinct."

"The fact that your instinct was to jump in front of danger for a comrade already says a lot about you," says Tsubaki. "It certainly did to me."

"Anyone would have done the same," Takumi insists.

At that, Tsubaki huffs out a soft laugh. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"What do you mean?"

Tsubaki's gaze is distant, fixed on something Takumi doesn't see. "Anyone can talk big about giving up their life for their country or their liege, but actually doing something like that would be a tall order."

"Are you saying you wouldn't be able to do what I did that day? That's what caught your interest about me?" says Takumi.

"All I know is that I don't fight battles I don’t think I can win," says Tsubaki. "And you showed me that day how deeply imperfect that type of thinking is."

"Then yesterday..."

Tsubaki turns to look at Takumi, dark eyes searching. Takumi isn't sure what he would find. "I'd like to say it was my first attempt at following your example, but in truth…” He ducks his head and laughs faintly. “Hah, this is why I was hoping we wouldn’t have to talk about it. It’s a little embarrassing how badly I managed to mess up--I just did it without thinking."

For some reason, Takumi can't help the way his lips curve into an incredulous smile. "Yeah? And how much are you regretting it now?" 

"Well, I'm certainly feeling a great number of things I haven't felt before, but I'm not sure if regret is one of them," says Tsubaki, even as Takumi notices the tiny wince that twitches at the corner of his eye. 

"Then what is it exactly that you're feeling?" asks Takumi. 

Tsubaki looks back up at Takumi with that same, searching gaze. The brown flecks in his eyes are warm in the morning light, and Takumi wishes he knew what to do with the way it makes his breath come short in his lungs, like they’ve shrunken suddenly. 

_ Just what is it that you're looking for? _ Takumi wants to ask.

Tsubaki’s voice is quiet, like he’s telling Takumi a secret. "I feel braver."

Takumi blinks as he registers Tsubaki's words.

"I understand that your recklessness comes from your desire to prove yourself," says Tsubaki. "But rushing into the front lines in battle, sacrificing yourself for the people and the things you care about...that also requires an immense amount of bravery. You know that, right?"

Takumi swallows dryly and gives up on trying to ignore the way the blush in his cheeks seems to have made a permanent home there. "So, what? Rushing to your near-death to stop me from getting myself killed made you feel braver?"

Tsubaki's smile easily outshines the morning sun that crawls over the horizon, flaring against the deep red of his hair like a halo. "I didn't say it made me feel smarter."

"I wish I could be as great as you think I am," says Takumi.  _ Wish I could be even half as good as you _ , is what he means. "You probably hear this a lot, but I actually really admire the way you fight. Your confidence keeps you calm; maybe if I was more like that we wouldn't have ended up in the situation we did yesterday."

"And maybe we wouldn't have defeated Prince Leo," says Tsubaki.

"Ah..." The recollection comes to him slow and distant, like it isn't all there yet. Normally, Takumi holds onto his victories, no matter how small, keeps them close and always at the forefront of his thoughts for any chance to display them. 

But this one sits deep in his thoughts, buried in guilt and a heavy, profound shame. Yesterday was no victory.

Tsubaki notices expression on his face. "I think we both have a lot to learn from each other. That's what really drew me to you--the possibility that maybe we could make each other better. I don't get that with a lot of the people I meet."

"Because you're just that great?" 

Tsubaki's eyes widen and he opens his mouth to protest, but then he notices the crooked smile on Takumi's face. "You're teasing me," he says, eyebrows going up. 

Takumi shrugs and finds it hard to look him in the eye while he's staring at him like that--like he's just seen something rare and wonderful. "It's only fair after everything you've put me through." 

Tsubaki bursts out laughing, that full, booming laugh again, but this time instead of putting Takumi on edge it fills the air around him like a second atmosphere, something secret just for the two of them, if only because there's no one else around at the moment. 

And it is the sudden realisation that Takumi wouldn't mind if it was like this forever (or at least just a little longer) that makes him reach up without thinking, placing his hand on Tsubaki's cheek.

Tsubaki stiffens at the intimate touch, eyes widening, and Takumi knows instantly that he's made a mistake.

"Sorry--" He pulls away and stumbles to his feet, heart crashing down into his stomach. The Fujin Yumi clatters to the floor, into the mud, but Takumi barely registers it. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm just going to go..."

"Takumi, wait--" Tsubaki leans down to pick up the Fujin Yumi, then winces, hand flying to his side.

"I'm sorry," Takumi says again, and all he can think about is turning around to run away, leaving and pretending this never happened. 

But then--"Wait,  _ please _ ," Tsubaki says, and that's all it takes to make Takumi pause, to turn back around and face Tsubaki even when every bone in his body is screaming at him to  _ escape _ .

Tsubaki's expression is something soft and kind, and for a second, Takumi actually contemplates the possibility that they might both put this behind them for the sake of everything they’ve just shared.

“Your bow, Lord Takumi,” Tsubaki says.

_ I know _ , Takumi tries to say, but his voice freezes in his throat, and it’s the Forest of Lost Souls all over again, his feet stuck in the mire while his heart tries to crash its way out of his chest.

“Here,” Tsubaki says, and he leans down again. 

“No,” Takumi says, and then he’s moving again, stepping forward in front of Tsubaki and grasping the Fujin Yumi and pulling it out of the mud and doing everything he can not to look up at him--

Tsubaki’s touch is light on his forearm, and he stills. "Help me up before you go?"

Takumi pulls the Fujin Yumi close to him, and shoves aside the quiet disappointment that comes with the realisation that it can’t change anything. Slowly, Takumi places the Fujin Yumi on the bench and Tsubaki’s outstretched hand. 

Tsubaki's hands are larger than his, but he has the same callouses on his palms as Takumi does, pushed out over his skin from countless battles spent fighting with weapons of iron and steel, heavy in his grip. Takumi remembers the way Tsubaki had looked so put together the day he’d bandaged Takumi’s arm, like he’d never gone into battle. Still a soldier, after all. 

Takumi helps Tsubaki up to his feet carefully, trying not to flinch when Tsubaki puts his other hand on his shoulder, warm and solid.

"Thank you," Tsubaki says. 

Takumi lets Tsubaki’s hand slip out of his. The loss of contact is startlingly cold, and Takumi holds back a flinch. 

"Can we just...forget what happened there?" Takumi says. "I know you wanted to be friends--I want that too. What I did just now, I didn't..." 

"You didn't mean it?" Tsubaki asks, expression unreadable. 

"...I did," Takumi admits, if only because it would be unfair of him to lie. "But if that's not what you want, then--" 

Tsubaki steps in close, then ( _ too close, too warm, too much like what Takumi wants but knows he shouldn't have _ ), and pulls Takumi into an embrace, long arms encircling him.

"Wh-what are you--" Takumi brings his hands up against Tsubaki's chest and just barely manages to hold back his instinct to push him away, resting them shakily on his yukata instead. It takes Takumi everything he has not to get lost in the urge to rest his head against Tsubaki’s shoulder and just forget everything. 

"Takumi," Tsubaki murmurs gently into his ear, bangs brushing his cheek. "What is it that you were trying to say when you did that?" 

Takumi's ears burn at Tsubaki's words, and reflexively he fists his hands in Tsubaki's yukata. "I--I was..." His lip quivers, and his voice catches in his throat.

Tsubaki doesn't seem to mind. "Would you understand if I told you I was trying to say the same with this?"

Tsubaki is warm against him, his chest rising and falling against Takumi's as they breathe in deep, even breaths that belie the racing hearts in their chests.

And then something ugly and loud pushes its way to the forefront of Takumi’s thoughts, relentless in the way it drowns out everything else until all that’s left is the suspicion that maybe Takumi heard a hint of  _ pity _ in Tsubaki’s voice--

Takumi quashes it, grinds his heel into its face and shoves it back to where it belongs, in the dark corner of his mind where he puts all of the thoughts he knows he isn’t supposed to listen to. 

"Understanding and believing are two different things," Takumi says, maybe more to himself than to Tsubaki. 

Tsubaki huffs out a laugh. "Well, it's a start." His arms tighten around Takumi. "Does this make you uncomfortable?"

"No," Takumi replies maybe a little too quickly. Their position is awkward, with Takumi’s arms still trapped in between them, but somehow it feels almost familiar, as if they've done it before.

Tsubaki sighs. "I like this," he says quietly. "You and me, that is. I'd like to see more of it, if you're willing."

A frigid sort of horror creeps down Takumi’s spine at Tsubaki’s words. "I--I don't know," Takumi says faintly, eyes wide. 

Tsubaki pulls away slightly, eyebrows knitted with concern. "I understand that a relationship between a member of the royal family and a retainer would be--"

"No, that's not it," Takumi says. He drops his arms to fiddle with his yukata. "I just don't know if...it’s going to be as simple as it sounds."

"But you like me."

There is no conceit in Tsubaki’s words--if anything, there’s something in the way his voice stutters almost imperceptibly that makes it seem more like a question. Hearing it aloud just makes it harder for Takumi to look at him. "I do," he admits, voice ragged with the effort of holding back the emotion that threatens to spill out of him.

"And I like you," says Tsubaki, easy and sure like a summer breeze.

_ Gods _ , Takumi wishes it were that easy--that everything was as easy as Tsubaki made it seem--

“I just don’t know if I’ll be good enough for you in the future,” Takumi blurts out, and those words lay something heavy on his shoulder that he’s not sure he could shake off, even with Tsubaki’s help. 

There is a warm hand on his chin, and Tsubaki gently nudges Takumi’s head up. Their eyes meet, dark red on amber, and for a second Takumi is deeply and profoundly afraid that Tsubaki might kiss him.

But instead, Tsubaki just smiles at him. “Neither do I,” he says, “but I’m not going to sit around doing nothing while I wait to see.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aiya

**Author's Note:**

> another special thanks to yao for beta'ing!! check out the new leokumi fic she just put up right [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6889762) !!


End file.
